Error
by 3ONESHOTS
Summary: A joke. That was all she ever was. And that was all she would ever amount to. A failed joke.


No warnings.

Disclaimer: I do not own Vocaloid.

. . . .

That was all she ever was.

And that was all she would ever be.

A joke.

An experiment.

A failure.

Teto wanted a voice. A real voice that she could sing with. But failures didn't have voices. No matter how much she wished it so, she would never have a voice. And, although Teto did have dreams of becoming a diva, maybe even becoming a Vocaloid, she also loved pranking. Why wouldn't she? It was what she had been created to do. So why did it end like this? Why was she to be deleted, erased, uninstalled?

Here she was, sitting at the bottom of a rarely used recycling bin. Why was it called a recycling bin? After all, the unfortunate and poor souls who were trapped down here weren't to be recycled, remodeled into newer and better forms. They were to be deleted permanently.

Just as Teto was to be now.

She had enjoyed her days as a prankster. It was fun to see the people's surprised, shocked faces as they realized that she was a fake. A fraud.

But that was what stung the most.

Teto didn't want to be a fraud. She wanted to really sing. And, maybe if she tried hard enough, she would become a better singer than even the infamous Hatsune Miku. Teto heard stories about her. She knew how popular the Vocaloid was among the others. In her presence, even great singers like Rin and Len seemed inferior. She was just that good. But what was Teto to the others? They certainly didn't take her seriously as they did the other Vocaloids. Nor did they praise her about her singing. Teto could feel her throat choking up with emotion. But she couldn't find the willpower to cry, or even shed a single tear.

She did have a voice.

But it definitely wasn't beautiful like Miku's.

Teto opened her mouth, about to sing a few unharmonious notes. Her favorite song had always been "World Is Mine" by Hatsune Miku. The pop star's soft and clear voice was easy on the ears and pretty to listen to. Teto's own voice only caused her victims to cringe. But she couldn't blame them. As soon as the first words escaped her, she instinctively clamped her hands over her mouth, her ears ringing at the horribly pitched noise she had just emitted.

That was all she really was.

A badly tuned Miku rip-off.

"M-Maybe if I try again, it'll sound better," she reassured herself, trying in vain to sound optimistic. The darkness and loneliness of the empty recycling bin wasn't helping her depressed mood. Teto opened her mouth again, trying to repeat the same words.

It still sounded terrible. Still sounded too much like a badly tuned Miku. The redhead sighed loudly, the ghostly sound echoing off of the walls of the bin. Teto hung her head, glossy curls of her hair framing her face as she brought her wobbling knees up to her chest. Why had her creators given her such a pitchy voice? Did they think it was funny?

Teto didn't think it was humorous. Not anymore.

Maybe it was time to give up her stupid dream of becoming an idol. If she really wanted to be a star, she needed a better voice. But she would keep trying, she would keep on practicing until she perfected Miku's song and made it her own. Then maybe her creators would reconsider deleting her.

"I'm the number one..."

Teto winced. She sounded worse then before, if that was even possible. But of course it was. This was Kasane Teto who was singing. She would never be able to sing anything right without making at least one mistake.

"I'm just not pop star material..." she said quietly, a choked sob following afterwards. "Maybe if I didn't have this accursed voice, I would be famous. Just like Miku."

But I'll never amount up to anything else.

Tears streamed down the young girl's face, dripping down her shirt as she hugged herself tightly.

If only she could sing.

Then she could pursue her dream.

. . . .

The feel of her new voicebank was strange and foreign to her, but it was better than having a pitchy, audio-tuned screech. If she worked hard enough, just as she had promised when she was created, then maybe she would make it to stardom.

And, opening her mouth, she sang.

But maybe Teto had been asking for too much.

Thanks to her friends and much support, she was given a downloadable voicebank, and at first she wasn't quite sure about the idea of singing. But Miku believed in her. And her belief and support alone made Teto feel like she could accomplish anything, no matter the obstacles. Miku had smiled at her, the pop star's liquid turquoise eyes brimming with pride and emotion.

"Now you'll be able to sing with me, Teto-san!"

Teto had smiled too, and although she hadn't shown it, she too was proud of herself. Standing here now, in Miku's presence, with a microphone in hand, ready to sing, was truly nerveracking. But Teto was sure she could pull it off.

And so she began to sing.

. . . .

Emotionless, cold. If Teto was asked to describe her new voice, she would choose those two words. Miku said my voice was pretty. But I can't trust her. She's too nice. She might be lying. Most likely she is. Teto's fleeting mind refused to rest as she worried over these matters. Miku had been nice enough to try and bake her something when she had first arrived, but Teto kindly refused when she had learned that Rin had helped to make them. Come to think of it, Teto remembered seeing some leek bits encrusted into the cookie's crumbly crust. Suddenly, she felt a bit sick in her stomach, which was now churning for a completely different reason.

Dropping her piece of french bread with a resounding thump, Teto raised her head and glanced at Miku's grim expression. The tealette had remained quiet whilst Teto had nibbled on the edges of her french bread in utter silence. Neither spoke. Teto had quite a few questions to ask Miku, although she kept her mouth shut as Miku began idly picking at her painted nails. Questions. So many questions, all of which had to do with her voicebank. Forcing down the salty tears that were quickly forming in her crimson eyes, making her vision blurry, Teto took another bite of her french bread, gagging quietly as she felt the hard glob of baked dough squeeze its way down her throat. She could feel a painful lump forming.

She was miserable.

"Teto-san," Miku said, her evasive gaze not meeting Teto's as she awkwardly tried to converse with her. "How do you like the place? I-I hope the room I gave you isn't too small... I was kind of afraid you wouldn't like it, seeing as you brought so many things with you, hehehe..." Her laugh sounded nervous, Teto noted.

"... It's fine, Miku-san. It's my fault for bringing so many things with me," she replied. Her answer did not bring Miku any relief, though. If anything, she seemed more tense. Shoulders rigid, eyes alight and flitting around, scanning the area. Her hands knead the tablecloth anxiously.

"I'm glad to hear that... I hope you've met Rin-chan and Gumi-san already..." she said with another nervous giggle. "I-I hope they weren't rude or anything... Did Rin cause you any trouble, Teto-san?"

Teto forced a grin. "No, not at all. She did have the generosity to teach me a few songs, though." Her eyebrows knitted as she revisited the moment. Miku's smile faltered. Her hands paused from their kneading, her eyes losing their sparkle.

"I sang with Rin-san," Teto said.

"... I-Is that so. I'm glad she was kind enough to sing with you," Miku replied, the corners of her mouth twitching. She was trying to smile again. But she couldn't. Instead she settled for kneading the tablecloth once more.

"She said my voice was nice."

"That's very kind of her."

Teto could feel tears brimming in her eyes, stubbornly refusing to fall. Was Miku listening? Nice. The words stabbed into her heart like a knife tearing deeply into her chest. Nice. Such a general, common word. Didn't Miku care? Pouting slightly, she hugged herself a bit more tightly, hands digging into her arms and leaving deep marks. They hurt. But not as much as Rin-san's words.

"... She said my voice was nice..." she repeated, trying to emphasize the meaning in her simple sentence. Miku was still smiling. Still smiling away, as if nothing was wrong. "What does Rin-san say about your voice, Miku-san? Does she say your voice is nice too?" Red bangs covered her face, the tears that were slowly streaming down her cheeks hidden by shadow. Miku was blind. So very, very blind. Teto was dying, piece by piece, and yet...

Yet she was still so oblivious.

The thought made her heart ache.

Miku drummed her fingers rhythmically against the table. "Rin-chan and I sing a lot together... She says..." Miku paused, seemingly unsure of what to say next. Or maybe, she didn't want to insult Teto. The redhead seethed bitterly. Miku was stalling, she could tell from her posture. "She says my voice is pretty... Although, I'm nowhere near as good as Gumi-san."

That was a lie. Teto could feel anger bubbling in her throat.

"Teto-san, I don't care if you forget about this the next day, but please listen to me when I say that nobody will care if your voice is robotic. I think your voice is beautiful, and Rin-chan thinks so too. You shouldn't care about what other people think." As she finished her speech, she placed one hand on Teto's trembling shoulder, her smile as warm and comforting as ever. But, in all of her emotional turmoil, Teto was unaffected, completely immune to her kindness. And she pushed Miku's hand away.

"Wouldn't you care if everyone thought your voice was robotic, Miku-san? Knowing that, even though they smile and clap and scream for you at the end of every concert, that they will never appreciate your voice for what it is?" she retorted harshly. Miku, mouth wide open and agape, did not reply. Teto couldn't bring herself to feel any amount of sentimentality for her, though. She straightened herself in her chair, abruptly slamming her fists against the table as she stood up. The piece of french bread rolled off the table, the fragile plate wobbling violently.

"Teto-san, th-that's not what I meant! I-I just said that you shouldn't care if someone says something nasty about your voice. N-Not that your voice is nasty, I'm just saying that-"

Miku was only met with the creaking of the door's hinges.

. . . .

She sighed loudly as she lay on her bunk, a twist of limbs as she tried to get comfortable, only to end up in a rather strange position. In her hand lay the set of headphones she had been using. There was no need to use them now, though. She wasn't needed here, not when Crypton already had so many amazing Vocaloids with their pretty, perfect, flawless voices. Her voice in comparison, was very flawed.

She was going to run away.

It wasn't something to make a big fuss over. Nobody would miss her. Teto was unwanted, and definitely not needed. Miku would learn to forget her, and in time, she too would forget to miss her. She would forget every day they had spent with each other. Len would keep her company. He would act as a replacement, and then they would both forget about Teto. Rin would learn to forget her robotic voice, as would Luka and Meiko. Everyone would be so much happier without her in their lives. Teto was a burden, a heavy one that refused to be lifted.

She gripped her bag, which was still packed with all the things she had taken with her when Ritsu told her the news about her voicebank. She really had packed too many things. In her excitement, she had accidentally stuffed her teddy bear in as well. A faint blush crept across her face as she shoved the stuffed bear down to the bottom of the bag.

She unlocked the window.

She planted one foot on the windowsill.

She prepared to escape.

"Teto-san..."

But Miku had to interrupt her. There she stood, at the entrance to Teto's temporary room, her hands crossed over her chest as she stared, eyes wide. In one arm, she held a worn plastic bag with a few holes puncturing the flimsy material. Through those holes, Teto could see a mound of french bread crammed inside. Miku remembered how much she loved french bread. And she had been nice enough to deliver some to her.

"Are you... Going away? So soon?"

They stared.

Teto blinked.

Miku merely gaped.

Yes.

I'm running away.

But you'll learn to forget me.

You'll learn to forget everything.

And she jumped. Took a leap of faith, you might say. Where would she go? Back home, back to that lonesome, depressing place, just to get uninstalled again? The recycling bin is always another option. Just hide down there. Nobody will find you. They'll forget you.

And suddenly, being deleted didn't sound so bad.


End file.
